


Out of the Dark

by Badwolf36



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Betrayal, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwolf36/pseuds/Badwolf36
Summary: "Just wait.”“Am I a goddamned dog? What, are you going to be telling me to ‘roll over’ next?”This startles a laugh out of Cupcake. “He said you were sarcastic. I had no idea someone could talk as much as you when in a situation like this.”The situation being, of course, stuffed into the back of a non-descript black sedan, and then driven around every turn and switchback in San Francisco (which was highly unnecessary because he got lost at the drop of a hat even after nearly 10 years in the city. GPS units had been a godsend).





	Out of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Daily Captain and Daily Doctor challenge on LiveJournal, specifically this photo: http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5900000/Chris-Star-Trek-Portraits-chris-pine-5927077-426-599.jpg

He’s unceremoniously shoved to his knees in the center of the room.

“Thanks,” Leonard says sarcastically. “I was just fine standing, asshole.”

The thug, because there’s no other way to describe the hulking mass of muscle that had dragged him here and generally manhandled him all night, just snorts.

“Wait,” he commands.

“I don’t really feel like it. In fact, I think I’m just going to waltz my way out of here.”

A meaty hand lands on Leonard’s shoulder, ensuring that he can’t actually get up.

“Wait,” the man says again, and weirdly enough, it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

Leonard can’t really spare the vocal inflection much thought; he’s too busy wishing that he’d actually let Spock inject him with that new experimental tracking chip that the crazy Scotsman down in the Logistics department had developed. His partner is an uptight son-of-a-bitch who sometimes refuses to see that crime isn’t always logical, but that’s where Leonard comes in.

Although he really hadn’t seen where passion _or_ logic came into play after he was grabbed off the street while walking back to his apartment after his shift, stuffed into the back of a non-descript black sedan, and then driven around every turn and switchback in San Francisco (which was highly unnecessary because he got lost at the drop of a hat even after nearly 10 years in the city. GPS units had been a godsend).

“I’d remove your hand if you don’t want to lose it there, Cupcake.” Bizarrely, his thoughts drift to watching fondly as a blonde man snagged the last cupcake from the box he’d brought home to their apartment from the bakery up the block. He remembers listening to him yelp as Leonard had swiped all the frosting off with one finger before the other man could bite into the treat. But that was a long time ago and reminiscing wasn’t going to get Leonard out of this situation.

Cupcake’s grip merely tightens on his shoulder. A cellphone rings and Cupcake moves away, but not far enough that Leonard can’t hear his side of the conversation.

“Yeah, Boss. We got him. Have him right here.”

Leonard forces himself to focus on the information he has. Who hires thugs like Cupcake, yet obviously instructs them not to hurt their targets? Nero’s out for obvious reasons (killed in a raid three months ago). Khan’s out too. The bastard was locked up in solitary and the majority of his followers were scattered across the federal prison system. Mugatu (and what was with all these bastards having only one name?) had had his trade in narcotics shut down.

With no ready possibilities to mind, Leonard focuses on the room itself. He’s pretty sure he’s in a warehouse and the smell of the ocean means he’s down by the water. There’s a long black corridor stretching out in front of him, which he could probably make a break for and not have Cupcake catch him. Cupcake’s still standing by the door into the room, and even though he’s obviously very involved with the conversation, his eyes are still trained completely on Leonard’s every movement. Hmm, maybe not just some hired thug.

He clicks the phone off before Leonard can decide what to do. “He’s coming,” he says.

“Your boss?” Cupcake nods. “Do I get a name?”

“He wants to leave that sort of detail for now. Just wait.”

“Am I a goddamned dog? What, are you going to be telling me to ‘roll over’ next?”

This startles a laugh out of Cupcake. “He said you were sarcastic. I had no idea someone could talk as much as you when in a situation like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Leonard snaps, then stops, running the first part of what Cupcake’d said over in his mind. “Wait, ‘he said’? Your boss has been telling you about me?”

Cupcake actually fidgets, hand going to the gun tucked under the waistband at the small of his back. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

It’s then that Leonard hears the rhythmic echo of footsteps against the cavernous walls. He jerks his head toward it, straightening to the full height he can get while on his knees on the concrete floor.

The blackness in front of him is all encompassing, so he can’t even get a sense of the size of the person walking toward him.

So it’s complete surprise when the person finally emerges from the velvet blackness.

The tailored gray pinstriped suit lies in perfect, crisp lines over a leanly muscled frame. The white button-up is similarly tailored, the top button left undone to frame an elegant neck, a lightly stubbled jaw. There’s confidence in the smile set on the man’s lips. Dirty blonde hair is cropped short, spiked in that effortless way that looks like bedhead, but probably involved mousse and hairspray and things Leonard doesn’t typically have the time or patience to bother with.

Leonard absorbs all those details the moment he sees the man, but then his eyes stop on one particular, _familiar_ feature on the man in front of him, who’s now looking down at him with something like fondness and something like hunger.

Those clear blue eyes have haunted his dreams. Those eyes had belonged to his best friend, confidante, and lover, Jim Kirk. He had last seen those eyes peering sleepily up at him from his bed as he kissed Jim goodbye before leaving for his shift, six years ago. Those eyes practically glow against the contrast of the pervading shadows.

He hears Cupcake leave the room without a word, but he can’t tear his eyes away, can’t even think about running or fighting or calling for backup or any of the other things he’s been trained to do.

Because the man with those eyes, the man wearing the finely cut gray suit, the man looking down at him with affection and lust and something far darker, _is_ Jim Kirk.

And Jim Kirk looks down at him and smiles that quiet smile that Leonard knows only he’s ever seen and says, “Hello, Bones.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review if you enjoyed!


End file.
